Heartbroken

Today is Elijah's birthday, and he is turning 6!  I am so happy for my little boy who is growing up so fast.  He is such a sweet little man.  We had a little celebration for him at school, then I came home, where Gabriel and I baked a cake that is now in the oven.  Presents are wrapped and we are going to have a great day.

But I have been fighting tears all morning.  Actually got to cry on Hunny's shoulder a bit, but apparently not enough, because tears are flowing again as I write this.  Why, one may ask, would a mom be sad on the occasion of her son's birthday?  Well, yesterday at his birthday party, (an event for which I'll post pics later!), I was confronted with a reality I have always known was coming, and was nonetheless utterly unprepared for.  While confirming an upcoming playdate, one of Elijah's friends rejected his brother.  He very clearly expressed his desire that Gabe not be included.  He didn't do it maliciously, he wasn't trying to be mean, and if Gabe had heard, he wouldn't have realized it.  But I did.  And it hurts.  Enough that I'm crying the day after.

One of the hardest parts of choosing to homeschool, and sticking with it, is knowing that he doesn't get the daily bonding and friendship-building that comes with traditional school.  Yeah, we have him involved in other activities so he gets socialization.  But it's not the same as going to school everyday and seeing the same friends everyday.  I guess I was secretly hoping that as Elijah started school, and his classmates were exposed to Gabriel, that, somehow, they would become Gabriel's friends, too. Maybe they will.  But the sting of that first real rejection really stings.  And I'm left questioning the wisdom of my choices.  Is the academic advantages of homeschooling worth the cost of relationships?  I'm not so sure today.  I look into his beautiful face and wonder "What is the right thing to do?"

He just finished his writing assignment, and crawled onto my lap and is cuddling me as I type.  God I love this boy!  I guess he is telling me it's ok. Really, how can I look into this face and not know everything is going to be ok:

  So, I'll leave this here and go take the cake out of the oven and celebrate my youngest, and save the tears for the next time. 

And to those who would say I'm whining about my choices, all I can say "eff you."  Sometimes having kids with special needs is extremely hard, and sometimes it hurts deeply.  It's okay for me to say so.  If you don't get that, then the problem is with you.